CHAPTER XIV
A NIGHT OF TERROR
GRACE HARLOWE was frightened. At least, for a moment, she felt her nerves giving way under the strain, and she feared she too was going to scream. Instead, she gave Emma Dean a severe shaking.
“Stop it, I tell you! You will have the bandits down on us next. Goodness knows we have trouble enough on our hands without again having to deal with those ruffians.”
“I don’t care. I prefer bandits rather than to have that terrible thing in the air over me,” cried Emma.
“It is an animal, though I must admit that the wail did sound like the voice of a woman in mortal agony. There it goes again. Steady yourself, Emma! Be an Overton girl!”
Emma Dean buried her head in Grace’s lap and again gave way to a storm of tears. Her whole body was jerking nervously, but Grace petted and coddled, and talked to her, until finally Miss Dean, in a measure, recovered her composure.
The wild, haunting, mournful wail was repeated. Emma shivered and so did Grace, despite her self-control, but both girls immediately recovered their composure.
The wail burst suddenly, appallingly close, seeming, to their overstrained nerves, to be right under the shelter that covered the Overton girls.
Emma Dean leaped to her feet, and was about to dash out into the canyon when Grace caught and hauled her back. At that instant, the heavy thud of padded feet striking the ground in front of the camping place was heard by both girls.
Peering over the little fire, Grace saw two yellow, ball-like eyes out there in the darkness. Emma discovered them at about the same time, but she made no sound, save a faint gurgle in her throat.